


starting out on a journey

by spoke



Category: Last Unicorn - Peter S. Beagle
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 16:17:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoke/pseuds/spoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So many thanks to my beta Morbane, without whom this story wouldn't be half as good. Any mistakes that remain are my own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	starting out on a journey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PhynixCaskey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhynixCaskey/gifts).



When she visits - not nearly often enough for him - life in the castle comes to a halt. There is not one of them who does not know by now that his standard represents a reality and not an ideal. In the day they stand aside and bow, and someone comes to him immediately, often to find that he has sensed her and is already on his way. The connection between them always grows stronger as she draws nearer, and he wonders if they’ve ever realized he doesn’t need them to know of her arrival. 

At night, no one sees her but him. 

She dances always just out of his reach, even when she is standing still, and the sound of her laughter is the sound of the sea. He stands there, half-dressed and not even aware of it, reflecting her as he has since before she was freed from her human disguise. 

She drifts closer, very nearly nosing him as her eyes eclipse the night. “How many horrors have you defeated lately, my lord?” 

He smiles ruefully and recites, “Three dragons, five ogres - they seem to still be holding a grudge - and one witch who was determined to put a curse on my heirs. She seemed quite put out by the fact that I don’t have any.”

She laughs at that, and brushes him with her mane as she moves past. “I would imagine. Witches don’t like things they cannot control.” 

He turns to see that she’s eating the roses again - which is perfectly fine, since he ordered them planted for her after she ate some that had been given to him as a gift. It’s just that a distant part of his mind always notes that when she’s gone, he’ll care that the gardeners care that’s she done it.

He wishes he didn’t think that way, and it’s more to distract himself than to please her that he thinks of the newest monster report. “I’ve heard there’s a hippocampus plaguing a town nearby. I’m going to deal with that next, they can get very nasty when they’ve gone bad.”

Her ears swiveled with interest. “I hope you didn’t delay on my account?” 

“No, my lady. Though I would love to say that I had, it’s more for the sake of my work. People get rather upset if you simply ride out to slay a beast with no warning. There is all the tedious business of being a king - it’s a lot more than just sitting on a throne and giving orders, as it turns out. ” He can feel his mouth twisting sourly, and tries to make it stop. “Although it is most of it is done sitting.” 

She’s looking at him again, and all the old secrets they have never spoken are moving between them in the air. 

“Tomorrow, then?” 

Her assent, like her presence, follows him into dreams. 

* * *

They set out into a rosy dawn, on a road he has not traveled for some time and she has probably never seen. They have both of them avoided the sea since Haggard’s fall. Ordinarily his people insist on accompanying him with great fanfare on these things, such as they imagine fit for a king. This time only his knights go with him, and they at a respectful distance, for what mortal fanfare would not be put to shame by her grace?

“And it’s a good thing. You should see the noise they make when I’m trying to slay a dragon, my lady. It’s ridiculous! They can hear me coming a mile off.” Her soft laughter makes him smile, and he glances slightly over his shoulder lest any of the men have gotten close enough to hear him. “I’ve taken to ditching them during the confusion of breaking camp and riding on alone. It’s the only way to get things done.” 

Amusement shivers along the length of her horn.. “Shall we tomorrow, then?”

“Of course you would, lady. The horse hasn’t been born that could keep up with you.” He shakes his head, considering. “I think the day after. We should be close enough then for me to reach it before they can catch up. Have you heard from Schmendrick and Molly lately? The last I heard, they were on that plain without rain. You would think witches would know better than to cause trouble in his path by now.” 

She tosses her head, teasing a passing butterfly with her breath. “I’ve heard they think of it as a challenge. Who will be the one to defeat the great Schmendrick!” She laughed, and it was rueful but not unkind. “The last I heard was from a passing goose, lost on his migration. He said, amidst the worrying and berating they tend to, that he’d been seen negotiating with a group of dwarves for passage under their mountain. I can’t imagine why he didn’t simply go over it.” 

“I have heard it said that dwarven halls are one of the great wonders created by hands, lady. It may be that he wanted Molly to see it.” 

* * *

It is even earlier than usual in the morning that she woke him, simply standing near. He had slept in his armour, which had long been his custom on these journeys, and was thankful he’s never had to change the custom. It began because he had no one to help him with it, so he simply rode out of Haggard’s castle attired thus - but it saves all the time he needs in ditching retinues. 

Once they near the ocean caves where the hippocampus is said to lay up during daylight, the silence between them deepens to something as joyous as their winter together in the castle, and yet as unlike it as morning is to noon. There is something fierce in it, and hungry in a way that disturbs him to feel in her, though he knows perfectly well that it’s there partly because of him, and because of the Red Bull. He almost wishes he could set her free, though he knows that may come only with his own death. 

He suspects it might have been different if the Bull had turned out to be the sort you could kill, but as it hadn’t, here they were.

The darkness of the caves as they search make the fierce glow of her horn that much brighter, and his horse for a moment tries to shy away from her and the walls both. As Lir soothes his mount back into obedience, she shrinks to a shining flicker in the depths ahead of him. 

He comes out of the stone spires into what into a scene from a nightmare, or an allegorical painting. He’s never seen a hippocampus quite this large, or old, and the accumulation of seaweed tangled in its mane and around the tail gives the appearance of additional arms reaching for her. It is weaving fiercely back and forth, and as they sought for an opening Lir was reminded of smaller birds mobbing a larger one. 

If either of them can be compared to something that fragile, experienced as they both are. 

Watching her fight, it occurs in flashes of thought that it’s only the damage done by turning her human that drives her so. He watches the sly motion of the fish-half, and thinks the problem is truly that she too is half, for all that the Lady Amalthea should be gone. 

But her belling challenges seemed to unnerve the horse in it, and the way it skitters back when the fish tries to attack would have been comical in another context. Between the two of them, it did not seem to know where it should go, and when the fish gathered itself to strike again the horse slips, and they were both of them on it before it properly understands what has happened. 

The triumph in her cry is more disturbing than any monster he’s ever heard. 

The ride back to the castle was subdued on both sides, she yearning to be gone again and yet compelled to guard him in spite of his skills, and he trying to think of a way to help her. The only arts he had at his disposal were those of a hero, and they were insufficient for the task. 

* * *

When they arrive at the castle, Schmendrick and Molly were there. Molly gasps softly, and curtseys, but Schmendrick smiles with satisfaction in his eyes. He moved past Molly and Lir both, sparing a nod for Lir as he goes straight to her. “My lady. Please, stay. awhile? I would speak with you.” 

She stares at him for a long time without speaking, while Molly and Lir look first at each other, and then the other two. They can barely hear Schmendrick’s voice, but it sounds as if he’s asking her something. 

Finally they hear her speak, softly and full of regret and a certain skepticism. “Well. If you think it will work.”

For his part, Schmendrick laughs. “Lady, if there were some question of that I wouldn’t have dared to come. It’s the only thing I can think of that might do any good. We still need to put the question to Lir, however. And this subject, I think, is better discussed by people with a solid meal in them.” 

Molly shook her head then, and went to the unicorn with her eyes alight. “My lady. It is so good to see you again.” They were both smiling, and watching it made Lir vaguely jealous in some way he could not name.

Schmendrick coughs softly, and Lir turns to meet the magician’s eyes. Seeing that it was the same with him, Lir felt less ashamed of himself, and less still as Schmendrick speaks. “Molly says its the same with them, sometimes. That we feel and share things they don’t understand.” 

Lir stares at them both curiously, but he’s sure he’ll never understand why women would consider men mysterious. He knows he doesn’t want to deal with whatever Schmendrick is up to on an empty stomach, either, which means dinner is the only acceptable alternative. 

Especially with dear Lisene already marching out of the castle doors - though she slows when she sees the unicorn, as she always does. She never seems to know how to react to an honored guest who doesn’t need any of the things she would usually provide. Molly and Schmendrick are more familiar in their natures, and soon enough everyone interested in it is sitting down to eat. 

All through dinner, Molly and Lisene exchange glances or lean close to speak to each other. Lir would be more interested in that if he couldn’t feel the unicorn waiting for Schmendrick’s as yet unarmed sorcery, outside. 

* * *

Normally they would have retired after dinner, but this time he caught Schmendrick’s eyes as the plates were cleared away, and wasn’t surprised to find them all heading back to the garden. 

Nor was he surprised to find Lisene joining them, although Schmendrick seemed to be, a little. He might have been about to speak, but Molly shook her head and whatever it was died unspoken.

“Yes, well.” Schmendrick eyed him sideways. “First, your Majesty, have you named a successor to your throne?"

Lir frowned slowly. “Actually, Lisene is to be Queen. It seemed prudent, should any monster ever manage to kill me.” He ignores Lisene’s hiss, because they’ve had that argument quite enough and he isn’t going into it again. 

Schmendrick’s eyes almost pop open. “You really thought one might get you?”

“Everything gets lucky sometimes, my friend. A knight may be reckless and unconcerned with what becomes of people after he dies, but not a king.” He shrugs at their expressions, offering Lisene an apologetic smile. “She actually handles most of the boring parts of running a kingdom already. She’s patient, and loyal, and understands things like taxes and farming a great deal better than I do. _I_ grew up in a castle of thieves, remember? Most of my early attempts at ruling consisted of not doing what I remembered my father did.”

Schmendrick’s eyes darken a bit at that. “You know, I hadn’t considered that.” 

“Most people don’t seem to.” Lisene said. “He means well, but I first came here to argue with him about the taxes being levied.” 

Molly laughed. “Did you? I never knew that, why didn’t you mention it?” 

“That I came to the castle to berate the king? It seemed a little arrogant, Molly.” 

“Remind me to tell you sometime how Schmendrick got his job as court magician to Lir’s father, then.” She snorted, and noticed the men staring. “Well, you remember.” 

“Yes, and terrifying as that moment was, it’s not why we’re here now.” He took a deep breath, looking at Lir with something unreadable in his eyes. “Your Majesty, I - well, I’d really feel better if we were sitting down for this. Or at least if you were.” 

Lir looked over to Molly and the unicorn, since they already knew whatever Schmendrick was coming around to. But it was Lisene’s drawn expression that had him back up to find the nearest bench. 

Schmendrick nodded. “I’ve figured out how to turn you into a unicorn.” 

Lir hears Molly shriek a little as he clenches his hands on the stone bench, though it sounds distant. He looks up to find Lisene and Molly both hovering over him. 

Schmendrick’s voice barely reaches him. “Well. He’s taking that better than I’d thought.”

“Well how did you think he was going to react?” Molly hisses, and he felt a hand on his forehead. “Lir, dear, are you all right? Can you hear me?” 

“No. yes, I can hear you, no I didn’t take it badly I’m fine. I’m fine!” He struggles to rise, and stops as he sees Molly glance warningly at him, and feels Lisene’s hand on his shoulder. “What do I need to do?” 

Now his head is swimming, he isn’t sure of what he sees, but at least he can hear the apolgetic tone in Schmendrick’s voice. “You’ll need to fast, to begin with. Lisene, my Lady, I’ll need somewhere to finish making a potion. This one is a little tricky, and has to be made fresh.” 

* * *

In the end it takes an entire day of arguing with Lisene before he can begin his vigil. Schmendrick had looked startled to hear him call it that, but what else could it be but a vigil? He had always been her knight, from the moment he first saw her. 

At least they’re both spared the difficulty of anyone contesting her rule. He suspects there are a great number of people in the castle who considered her Queen before this announcement, even if they’re surprised at how it’s coming about. Though it is a bit difficult to hear Lisene giving orders, knowing that he has broken her heart. She means well, and she is a fine woman. He loves her almost like he might a sister, if he’d had any. He hopes she will be happy, someday.

The last he sees of her is thier goodbye, before he goes into the chapel. Neither one of them is crying, though it’s a close thing on his part - and he suspects hers as well. What little she needs to ask him is gone through in moments, and then he whispers quietly. “Be well, my friend. You are going to be a wise and generous ruler, never doubt that.” 

She takes a deep breath, and he has the impression she’s steeling her nerves for something just before she hugs him. “I don’t doubt, Your Majesty. Lir.” She steps back and looks into his eyes. “You be well also. Be free.” 

* * *

Schmendrick comes for him before the sun has risen, with a softly steaming potion in his hands. “Careful with this, now. The bulk of the difficulty was getting everything we needed, it might take years to do it again.” 

Lir doesn’t know what to say to that except, “Thank you. I wish there were something I could do to repay you for all this.” 

He has never really noticed before that Schmendrick can laugh with his eyes. “Lir, you a brave hero and a wise king, and an idiot. I’m doing to this to repay her, to try and heal the damage I did back then.”

He looks over the lip of the cup with mild reproach. “Well, I’m thanking you anyway.” 

“Oh drink it already, would you?” he mutters without meeting Lir’s eyes. 

And he does not say another word until Lir has drunk it all. Then they left the castle and went to a small copse nearby. He nearly asked why not in the castle, and then thought better of it - she never wanted to linger inside the walls for long, he knew perfectly well the garden was most comfortable for her. Why would he be any different, when the point was that he become as she? 

Still, he has enough of his wits about him yet to recognize the worry in Molly’s expression. “Schmendrick, I think I’m a bit... giddy. Should that be happening?” A bit giddy is in fact an understatement, but he doesn’t want to tell the wizard he isn’t sure if he’s dizzy or the land is shifting. 

“Absolutely, your majesty. The giddiness means it’s working.” 

Molly darts a look at Schmendrick then. “Really? Shouldn’t he be clear headed for this? He’s going to have a lot to adjust to.” 

“Do you remember how she reacted when she became human? And she’s an immortal, with who knows how many years behind her. He’s a kid in comparison, and don’t look at me like that Lir, so am I.” 

He means to respond to that, but his tounge feels heavy in his mouth... in fact now that he comes to think of it, everything feels heavy. He looks to the wizard, trying to see again if this is happening as it should - but Schmendrick has his eyes closed, and his mouth is moving.

Is he singing?

Then he can’t tell if the wizard is still there, or Molly, or even her - there is a terrible weight pressing down on him. He has never felt anything like it, because even when he fought the worst monsters, the weight they threw around was outside him, a thing to be fought against and defeated. This was inside, an integral yet somehow crawling part of him. It seemed to Lir as the weight grows that it was both defines and destroys him, a slow march to his death, and he tries to fight as he has never tried to fight anything before.

But he is losing, stumbling down into the darkness, and for the first time as he stumbles he senses Schmendrick and Molly again. But where is she? Not with them... _because she’s not like them._

He gaspes at that, reeling back, and loses sight of them again. It’s his voice! His own voice, and yet not. It was light, and shining... like her?

 _Yes_ comes the reply to his unspoken question, and he reaches desperately to this new part of himself. ‘How do I fight it?’ he thinks, and winces at the reply.

_You don’t, you **can’t** , being mortal. It is mortality.’_

‘Then how do I fight it?’ he askes, and frowns at his own laughter. _You don’t! Run, Prince Lir. Leave it behind and follow her._

Then he senses her, and wonders how he has missed her. She is so much more beautiful, more real than he has ever realized, and she laughs as she dances back. He thinks briefly that he should be irritated, but he hears himself laughing instead, and giving chase.

And oh but he can move! He has never been this fast, never, and it is so easy. He has never realized before how hard it was to move, with that weight on him, but now it falls away as they run. They come out into a blinding light that warms him and he hears a sudden gasp and -

\- starts up, struggling suddenly as he wakes. He can’t seem to get his legs under him, and it takes a moment before he realizes that he has four of them now. He feels shaky, through and through, but he can see Molly and Schmendrick now, and himself reflected in their eyes.

Even if Molly’s tears blur the reflection a little. She’s smiling, though, so it must not be bad. 

A little wisp of what he supposes must be his humanity disapproves of the vanity in that thought, which is rather confusing. What could possibly be wrong with being a little vain, as beautiful as they are? But she is standing near them, talking to them, and he feels as if he should join her. 

“Lir? Your Majesty?” Molly askes, trembling a little and wiping at her tears fiercely. “You are all right?” 

“Give the man a moment before he tries talking. He’s had enough trouble with the legs.” But it is gentle teasing, and the smile is as much relief and fondness as it is triumph. 

Lir snorted, tossing his head in a brief attempt to see the horn. “I’m perfectly alright, magician. Look at me! Do you have any idea how ugly you are? I -” he stopped, rather horrified for a moment.

Schmendrick just laughs. “Forgetting tact already, are we?” 

She iss laughing, too. “He is new, magician. He is real and new and you have done it. You never owed me anything but your own sincere regret for helping me in the only way the magic knew how, and you have given me that and more. What do the human things he knew matter now?”

“Oh go on then, both of you.” Molly nudges her gently, and smiles at Lir. She does have the loveliest smile, he’s never noticed before the way you can see spring in it. And Schmendrick has echoes around him, swirling stuff that he supposes mark him as a magician. 

She is already away, but he lingers a moment more, knowing there is something he’d meant to say... oh. “Thank you. Thank you both, for everything. And take care of Lisene, if you can, and each other always?”

“Always, Lir. With a lighter heart for having seen this. We may be the only mortals ever present at the birth of a unicorn, however unconventionally it came about.” Schmendrick waves, but he only sees it out of the corner of his eye, because he has already turned to catch up with her.

And they run, into the growing light of the day and out of mortal stories altogether.


End file.
